


Someone a little different

by thegrayrose7



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayrose7/pseuds/thegrayrose7
Summary: A surprising guest with unique insight appears while the team are working a case of random shootings in New York City. She seems to be very close to Derek Morgan and genuinely dislike Dr. Spencer Reid, for no apparent reason. Could she be exactly what this team needed, for the present case and the ones to come?





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, this is my first attempt at CM fanfiction, but I gave it my best shot. The first chapter is a little shorter than the ones I usually post, and the following chapters should be a bit longer. Enjoy!

Chapter 1:

The sun shone brightly over the busy streets of New York City. Its residents trod the pavements with much hurry, looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. You wouldn't want to be caught staring at the wrong person, now less than ever. They held their phones close to their ears, shouting through the speakers in an effort to carry their voice over the noise of traffic, but not one dared stop and chat with a stranger.

These streets were dangerous with all their gangs and murderers and maniacs. But people learned to live with the fear. Yet now, they cast wary glances as they walked, their eyes flickering to heads that moved past them. Looking for a dark hoodie that covered a face. People were dying, shot down in the middle of the street. A serial killer, they whispered. New York remembers its monsters, and now, it was harshly reminded of one particular spawn. Of a time of terror. Son of Sam.

Yet what could they do?

A short, middle aged man with grey, curly hair and a messy beard, clad in an expensive suit , hurried on his way back to the office. The lunch break would soon be over, and he had mountains of work to attend to. He noticed a street vendor and his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had yet to eat that day. He walked quicker, and failed to notice the black haired woman that walked towards him, her eyes darting over the street. She too had heard of the murders.

Their shoulders met painfully, the woman staggered and the man turned on his place, apologising with a gesture, before turning once again. He had not time to waste.

But he would never return to his office.

He stopped at the stand, ordering a bagel and then scurried to the end of the pavement, raising his right hand high in the air and whistling in an effort to summon the cab. He would never get in.

A man in a hoodie, much like those they whispered so much about, approached him from the back, pulled out a small gun, thus far hidden in his pocket, and shot him in the head, never breaking his stride. The man fell to the floor, dead.

In the first couple of seconds, very few noticed the dead man on the pavement, and when they did, they screamed. But one person happened to eye the same vendor, noticed the busy man, and watched as he died.

A short woman with curly black hair that was pulled in a messy bun, an oval face with a button nose and full lips, dressed in a reddish-purple keyhole blouse, blank pencil skirt that reached just above her knees and black heels, watched as a young, Caucasian man of about twenty five years took out a gun and put a bullet in the older man's brain.

Her grey eyes met the light green eyes of a killer, both recognizing the other for what they were. A murderer, and his only witness. But the man did not raise his gun again, simply kept on walking and turned right, disappearing from view. Perhaps he thought the woman would not remember him, perhaps he thought that shock would blur her memory. Or perhaps he did not care at all.

But this woman was... different. He would have been much wiser to shoot again.

A dreary night had fallen on the fourth day since the feds arrived to help. But from what he could tell, they were no closer to finding the sick son of a bitch than that posh British detective. The officer stretched, glancing down the street.  
Security was tight, he thought as he tapped his gun, still in its holster, but would they really try to attack the Federal plaza?  
No way in hell. Then again, if they came… they'd go through him. He glanced down the street again, looking just a little closer.  
He was looking for a hoodie, and failed to notice a short girl across the street.  
She glanced left, then right, and stepped forward, crossed one lane, stopped, tilted her head a bit as a silver sedan sped past her, and crossed the two remaining lanes, walking up to the middle age, slightly obese man who seemed to be looking for something on the far end of the street.  
"Hello" greeted she, a brilliant, wide smile pulling on her lips and lighting up her face. But the man ignored her, possibly not having heard her at all.  
But her smile never wavered.  
"Sorry" said she "could I have a moment of your time?"  
Finally, the man looked down at the oddly dressed girl with a British accent. She had on a grey, faded hoodie, old, torn jeans, black converse sneakers and a blue, woollen hat. Her clothes looked as if they had been lived in for some time, as if the girl was living on the streets. But her eyes were bright, she wasn't using, and her teeth, revealed by a wide, brilliant smile, were pearly white.  
"Yes?" asked he, confused.  
"I'm looking for Derek" smiled the girl, stating these few words in a matter-of-fact tone.  
"Excuse me?" asked the officer, his hand once more reaching for his gun, his fingers tapping it twice, as if he attempted to reassure himself that it was still there.  
"Oh, sorry" said she, frowning like a child, the skin of her nose wrinkling just between her eyes. "That's not it."  
She stopped for a moment, as if trying to remember some long forgotten instruction. Her eyes lit up, and she grinned once more.  
"I'm looking for SSA Derek Morgan".  
The man stared down at her, not saying a word.  
"You don't know him?" asked the girl, frowning at the thought. She pursed her lips before attempting to describe the man she wanted to see. "He's rather hard to miss I'd say. About a head taller than you, dark skin, dark eyes, bald, built like a bear?"  
The officer remained mute, trying to decide what this girl, who appeared to be homeless, wanted with a fed. And what was with the way she addressed him?  
"Oh," she said, another thought coming to mind. "I forgot to mention."  
And with a wide smile, she earned herself an audience with an old, dear friend.  
"I'm a witness."

The officer could not leave his post, so he reached for his radio, still strapped to his side and mumbled a few words into the speaker. The strange girl did not seem to hear what he said, rocking lightly on her feet, her eyes focused on some spot just right of the officer. She did not seem to see the policewoman who appeared from the building, nor notice the apprehension in either officer.

Shortly after, the strange visitor was following the policewoman through the dull, beige interior of the government building, glancing about curiously as she walked. They walked into a spacious room, filled with desks and chairs, littered with papers and broken with many doors branching off to other parts of the building. A group of agents was gathered in front of the mismatched pair, just before the whiteboard filled with various evidence materials. The officer was just about to call their attention to the new arrival, but the strange girl seemed to zone in on the group the moment she stepped into the room, and opened her mouth, beating the officer to it.

"Derek!" exclaimed she, a smile of delight blossoming across her face. The tall, dark haired man stopped talking, his dark eyes focusing on the unexpected interruption, and the rest of his team turned, following his gaze. A dark-skinned, broad shouldered man seated on one of the desks, his shoulders hunched with tension, turned his head instantly, his eyes just barely widening in surprise.

"Nell?" asked he, agilely jumping to his feet and striding across the room, the corner of his lips pulling up in a happy, if not surprised smile. The girl, Nell, was beaming at him, but made no other move to approach him.

He spread his arms a few paces away, and she mimicked the gesture, allowing herself to be swept in a tight, warm hug.

"Hello Derek!" called she, her voice muffled as her lips moved against his shirt.

His deep laughter rumbled in her ears, and he lowered his lips to her head, kissing the top.

"It really is you. It is so good to see you sweet thing!" his shoulders seemed to relax for the first time in several days, the warmth of the small girl in his arms spreading into his heart. He had not seen her in so long, and would rather not let go just yet. She wrapped her arms around his back, returning the hug with all her might.

"I did it" spoke she, and Morgan pulled back a little so that he could see her face.

"Did what sweet thing?" asked he, his brow creasing, not quite following her train of thought.

"I told them I needed to see SSA Derek Morgan, and here I am!" Nell responded with a wide, proud smile.

"That's my girl." grinned Morgan, bending his neck to kiss her forehead. His chest swelled with pride, as he remembered the three gruelling weeks spent drilling this simple phrase. Simple thought it might be, Nell had great difficulty in memorizing it.

Neither of the pair seemed to notice the curious gazes or whispered questions. And neither noticed the curvaceous blonde that walked into the room, immediately noticing female arms around her best friend. Penelope Garcia would never admit, to herself or anyone else, that her heart gave a little, painful lurch at the sight. She approached Emily, and whispered "Who's that?"

"Don't know" Emily whispered back, never turning her head, her keen eyes set on the scene playing out in front of her. Derek was very physical with the girl, setting no boundaries in terms of their private space, leading Emily to conclude that they were close, intimate even. But there was something odd in the way the girl responded to the hug. "but they're close. Doesn't look like she's just one of his flings."

"Oh" said Penelope, trying to see through Morgan's back. But he would soon grant her a better view of this strange invader.

"What are you doing here Nell?" asked Morgan, finally releasing the girl from his arms, worry casting its dirty shadow across his mind. As much as he loved to see her, Nell's sudden appearance scared him.

But she seemed to be fine, as well as she always was, and beamed up at him as she replied: "I'm a witness!"

His smile slipped from his lips at the news. He should have expected something like this.

"Sweet thing, what did you see?" asked he, though he could already guess the answer. Seven bodies and Nell popping up from thin air, there was no way in hell that there was no connection between the two.

Her smile disappeared, and her face fell a little as she replied "I saw a man gunned down by another man in a hoodie near a bagel stand two days ago".

Morgan raised a hand to her face, cupping her cheek, trying to contain his excitement. "Did you get a good look sweet thing?"

Nell pursed her lips, and then nodded once, confirming his hope.

"Nell listen to me, this is very important." he bent a little in his knees, coming to eyelevel with the girl "Did you remember the numbers?"

Please, thought Morgan, please let her have remembered the numbers. She could be their big break. They could crack this case wide open, he thought, knowing that Nell's mind transcended his in many ways, but only if she had a good day.

She seemed to be thinking for a moment, before breaking out in one more dazzling smile.

"Yes!" replied she, happy to be of help. Her eyes twinkled with delight as Morgan let out a breath, his face breaking into a matching grin. He stood up to his full height, and moved to stand beside Nell, placing a hand around her shoulders. Only then did he notice the curious eyes that now quickly left them, poorly masking their incessant staring. And by far the worst of them all was his baby girl, who had appeared from her lair in the meantime.

"Hey Hotch!" called he, stepping forward and giving Nell a little push, prompting her to follow. "We 'got something!"

As Derek finally moved, Penelope caught sight of this new arrival. This woman had pale skin, as if she had not seen the sun in years; long, straight black hair, an oval face with a small, button nose and large, doe-like eyes. And Penelope had to admit, with a slight pang in her stomach which she did her best to ignore, that she had never seen more striking, light grey eyes. There the woman stood, next to her chocolate god, and Penelope could not help but think that the girl looked every bit a goddess herself.

She heard Derek call out to Hotch, and as her boss made a step forward to meet the pair, Penelope trailed after him, along with the rest of the team. Hotch made no move to stop them, overlooking their curiosity this one time. If this girl had information to share which could help them, they would all need to be briefed as soon as possible in any case. Besides, he could dismiss them in a second if need be.

Penelope leaned over to JJ, whispering "She looks young."

"Yeah, maybe early twenties?" replied JJ, she too observing the girl. But unlike Penelope, JJ felt an inexplicable liking towards the girl. She felt a little guilty about it, knowing the peculiar situation between Pen and Morgan, but she could not help it. It was almost instinctual.

Morgan stopped in front of his boss, his arm still placed securely around Nell's shoulders.

"Let me introduce you" spoke he, "Nell, this is Aaron Hotchner, Hotch, this is Nellwyn."

Nell beamed at the stern looking man, offering her right hand for him to take. The man looked strict, but not threatening, and accepted her outstretched hand immediately, giving it a firm shake. Yes, decided Nell, she liked this man.

"It is nice to meet you Nellwyn" replied Hotch, slightly impatient to learn what information the girl had to offer.

"Please, call me Nell" replied she, and her accent rang across the room, only further puzzling those present.

"And this is Kate Joyner" continued Morgan, and Nell shook hands with the woman as well, delighted all the more as she noticed the woman's accent.

"Emily Prentiss" said Morgan, and Emily reached her hand to the girl, saying "It's nice to meet you."

"A pleasure to meet you as well" replied Nell, releasing her hand and turning to an older man whose face seemed to be set in an unintentional frown.

"A pleasure" giggled she, amused by his expression. Rossi, perhaps the only one in the team, noticed the signs. He was just speculating though. Then again, speculating is what he did for a living. And the girl seemed to be remarkably well adapted, in spite of her impairment. What a strange case.

"Jennifer Jareau" said Morgan, and Nell turned to the petite blonde, who was about her height, and shook her hand, thinking that this woman was really pretty. It was then that JJ recognized this odd feeling, and decided to write off her mothering instincts as her newly raging hormones.

And finally, Morgan turned to his favourite kid, speaking up and instantly recognizing his mistake. He had not seen Nell in too long.

"And this is Doctor Spencer Reid." Nell was about to reach her hand towards the tall man opposite her, but these words had her retracting her hand. Her smile fell for the second time, and all profilers in front of her recognized the shift from delight to guarded assessment. As if she perceived Reid to be a threat.

Spencer had initially offered her an awkward smile, but his gaze fell to the floor between their feet at her hostile expression.

"Doctor…" came her voice, guarded, defensive. "As in physician?"

Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly, more than aware of the pregnant silence, and looked up, briefly meeting her eyes, before quickly looking away.

"Umm.. no, not exactly." replied he "I um, have three PhD-s, um in chemistry-"

"Oh" interrupted she, her features twisting with dislike "you are that kind of a doctor."

"Nell!" said Derek, quickly trying to fix his mistake. "You know better than to be rude sweet thing. We talked about this."

She did not reply, but the profilers in front of her noticed a shift in her weight, indicating that she had understood the message well.

"Sorry kid, she needs a filter for that little mouth" smiled Derek, his hand tightening lightly on Nell's shoulder, communicating that he was not angry.

"Do you have information regarding the homicides?" asked Hotch, turning to Nell and interrupting Morgan before he could introduce the most interesting person in the room.

"She saw the shooter from two days ago" said Morgan, replying for Nell, trying to get the conversation back on a more positive track.

Hotch in turn gave him a look that spoke volumes. A witness report from two days back in the middle of all the chaos and paranoia did not sound promising.

"We'll take you to the sketch artist, it would be very helpful if you tried to remember as many details as possible." said he, not quite willing to dismiss the possibility just yet.

"That's just it Hotch" grinned Derek "she remembers everything about his face." and as his boss gave him a dubious look, Morgan rushed to clarify, making his second mistake. "She's something like Reid."

The reaction was instantaneous.

"I am nothing like him." spat Nell, giving poor Spencer the dirtiest of looks and bringing about stony silence.

As several team members opened their mouths to come to Spencer's defence, Morgan interrupted, wishing to kick himself for being so stupid. What was he, a newbie?

"I almost forgot" said he, and Nell glanced up at him, her features softening immediately. Derek was the only person capable of calming her in seconds.

"This is our technical analyst" said he, and Nell followed his line of sight to the second blonde of the group, whom she had not yet noticed, her brain jumping to action, rewinding every conversation she had with Derek on the topic. "Penelope Garcia"

Her face broke into one more infectious smile, and she offered her hand; exclaiming: "Oh my God, you're real!"

Penelope really did not know what to make of the girl, glancing once to her chocolate god, before offering a small smile to the whimsical girl " Um yeah, last time I checked. I'm Penelope."

Nell grinned at her, shaking her hand lightly "Oh I know. It's just the way Derek talks about you, I had half a mind to call him a liar."

Penelope did all she could to keep her mouth closed. What just happened? Derek, on the other hand, had a rather nasty feeling about the way this conversation was going. He tried to stop her, but Nell had already opened her mouth.

"And you look just like I imagined you would!" grinned the little troublemaker, and Penelope tensed, half-expecting some jibe on account of her weight. She also felt a little betrayed by her best friend. She had not expected him to be commenting on her physical flaws with other women, especially not women like the one standing before her now.  
"You're absolutely beautiful!"

Penelope could have been knocked over by a breeze. And Derek had to get Nell out of that room. Now.

"Ok, that is enough from you" said he, moving to stand behind Nell and placing both hands on her shoulders. "Let's get you to the sketch artist."  
Rossi noticed the movement as restraint, but also as a way of hiding, placing the girl between Penelope and himself, physically distancing himself from the statement.

"What did I say?" asked Nell in a lowered voice, craning her neck in an attempt to glance at Derek, genuinely confused.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hotch” said agent Joyner, painfully aware of every second that ticked by “we need to hit the ground running.”  
The man turned to her and nodded once in agreement, his mind kicking into gear. They had a new witness, but news of a terror attack could break any moment.   
Emily blinked once, averting her eyes from this curious girl and addressed her team. “I’m gonna head to the hospital” said she, walking past her team, the heels of her shoes ringing loudly as she hurried to collect her things.   
“I’ll check on Cooper and brief detective Brustin” said she, her bag already swung over her shoulder, gathering her jacket and folding it over her arm.  
“Good” said Hotch, staring at some point on the floor, glancing at Rossi as he addressed him “Dave, will you go talk to the commissioner?” The man nodded once, and turned to follow Emily out the doors.   
“JJ and Reid, you brief Homeland Security” said he, and his eyes returned to their only lead. “Morgan, take your friend to the sketch artist, I want that sketch made and distributed within the hour.”  
Morgan’s hands tightened slightly on her shoulders as he replied “We’ll be fast.”  
He stepped beside her, one hand between her shoulder blades, and Nell started walking, falling into step with her friend, easily matching his long strides. But before she left the room, she glanced once more at the analyst who had been instructed to call Port Authority Police.   
She seemed nervous, apprehensive even, but most of all, she seemed very kind hearted. Nell smiled to herself as they passed door after door, yes, Penelope Garcia would be just perfect.  
“What are you grinning about short legs?” asked Derek, a smile twisting the corners of his lips upward as well. It was a dire time, but Nell smiled so honestly, he could not help but mirror her sentiment.  
“I like Penelope” replied Nell, looking up at him.   
“Yes, I noticed.” said he, tapping her back once in a chiding manner.  
Nell could sense that he was not happy with their meeting, and she frowned up at him “Did I say something wrong?” Her heart fell a little in her chest as she added “Did I embarrass you?”  
“Sweet thing” said Derek, pulling her a little closer to him as they walked “you can never embarrass me.”  
“Then…” asked Nell, “are you mad… about that… doctor? I know I was rude Derek, but honestly, I didn’t mean to. You know how I feel about his kind. I slipped.”  
“You were very rude” agreed Derek, turning her so that they walked into a small room with only one work station. There sat a man, adjusting some aspects of a program for digital drawing. “But we’ll talk about that later.”   
He reached his right hand, knocking on the doorframe once, signalling their arrival.   
“Hi, I’m agent Morgan” said Derek, and Nell watched as the short man whirled about in his chair and scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t be more than forty, but his hunched figured gave the impression of much greater age.   
“Patrick Sembley” said the man, approaching Derek and shaking his hand. He then turned to Nell, and offered his hand.   
“And this is Nellwyn” continued Derek “she’s a witness.”  
From what Sembley could tell, she was much more than just a witness. His eyes glanced at the agent’s hand, placed around the girl’s shoulders. This could be difficult.   
“And we need you to make a sketch of the unsub as soon as possible. We might be looking at a terror threat” said Derek, his voice dropping. A chill ran down his spine at these words, and Sembley swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat at the news. They had to be quick.  
He turned to the woman, and indicated with his hand; “This way Miss”.  
She smiled, and followed his hand, sitting down obediently on the chair beside his desk. She did not seem scared, and it didn’t look like she was in shock. What sort of a person is so calm in face of terrorism?  
He waddled to his desk, sitting down heavily and clicking a few times, adjusting the program for a quick draw.  
“We’ll have to do this a little different” said Derek and in three large strides, crossed the room and approached Nell’s chair. He wheeled it forward and around, parking it beside the sketch artist. Nell grinned widely, her hands grasping the edges of her chair as it was wheeled about.  
Sembley raised an eyebrow, his blood pressure rising at this wilful behaviour.   
“Agent, with all due respect and understanding, you can’t break protocol. There’s a method to this. Please let me do my job.”  
“I know man, but this is a special case.” said Derek, knowing well that they had no time to waste on this pointless discussion “Nell has a particular kind of memory, and you’ll get best results if she sits here and looks at the pictures.”  
Sembley had started drumming his fingers against the desk at the end of Derek’s first sentence. If there was one type of agent that Sembley found impossible to work with, it were these arrogant six pack guys who thought the whole world revolved around them. As far as Sembley was concerned, the fact that this Agent Morgan was fucking her did not make this woman any more special than any other witness that walked through his doors.   
“I am sure that she is special to you Agent, but I must treat Miss Nellwyn as any other witness” said Sembley, trying, and failing, to keep his voice controlled.   
Derek read well into his words, picking up on the insinuation instantly.   
“What is that supposed to mean?” snarled he, stepping closer to the man “If I say Nell is different, she is. We’re wasting time Sembley, time we don’t have.”  
The man opened his mouth to reply, but Nell interrupted “I’m autistic.”  
And there was silence.   
“I am a high functioning autist. I don’t think the same way you do, I remember in numbers. I can’t tell you what I saw, but I can show you.”  
For the second time in less than twenty minutes, Sembley was bathed in cold sweat. He had made a horrible mistake.  
“I-I’m sorry.” said he, cursing himself for being so stupid “I didn’t realize.”  
“Apology accepted” grinned Nell, grasping the desk in front of her and pulling herself a little closer “let’s get to work, shall we?”  
Derek had a few more choice words to share, but Nell had taken his chance. He moved back, giving them some space, knowing that his presence had been too intrusive already, and stood leaning against the doorframe, observing the two with his hands folded on his chest. He’d be damned before he left Nell alone with this ass.   
Fuck! He had been trying so hard not to mention autism. He barely ever mentioned it , because once it was named, people only saw her diagnosis when they looked at Nell. And it was a crime. Because Nell was much more than her diagnosis, she was a beautiful human being.   
In the meantime, Nell had managed to negotiate a new work method and was currently rejecting every shape of face presented to her.   
“No.” said she, and Sembley clicked on another face, “no.”   
And no again. By the time they reached the last profile, about five minutes into the process, Sembley had begun to wonder whether she really remembered what she saw, or, alternatively, if she was paying attention to the frames presented to her.  
“Not that one either” said she and paused for a second, before adding “Number 8 was the closest , but you’ll have to widen it 0.78 inch from the top of the forehead, by adding 0.212 inch”  
Sembley stopped clicking and turned his head to glance at the girl sitting to his left. It was off by 0.212 inches? Compared to what?  
“Can you do that?” asked the girl, tilting her head to the side, an expectant look on her face.   
“Yes…” responded the man, completely baffled by the request.  
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Nell, clapping her hands once in delight, “Go ahead then!”   
She gave the man one wide, encouraging smile, and he turned to his computer, selecting a few options and complying with her request. Sembley selected the “eyes” menu and began scrolling through it, deciding to cooperate. For all he knew, the girl could be some sort of a savant, which would make rejecting her a very, very bad choice.   
Penelope Garcia had been antsy from the moment she noticed that strange girl in Derek’s arms. She appeared out of nowhere and walked right into a federal building, all smiles and pleasantries one moment, snarls and barred teeth the next. Was she bipolar or something?   
It did not help that she seemed to know a lot about them, or rather, about her, but Penelope, try as she might, could not find a single piece of information on this new girl. And as the Godess of All-knowing, Penelope did not like this at all. She tried to run the name “Nellwyn” through several databases, but came up with squat. As if the girl did not exist at all prior to that day.   
And as she finished her call, Penelope could not sit still a moment longer. She could go and see how that sketch was coming along. Yes, she could do that, it was her job to make sure that sketch was distributed as soon as possible.   
Yes, thought Penelope as she rose to her feet, letting her colleague know that she would be right back, she really ought to check on that sketch. And if, by chance, she happened to learn something more about this odd girl, all the better.   
Something else was bugging her. Derek seemed to have been talking about her to this new girl, but he never, not with one word, mentioned her existence to Penelope. Why was he so secretive? Were they not best friends?   
The term, now more than ever, rang oddly through her mind. She smothered the thought, acting as if it were never there at all.   
She stopped a few steps from the office of the sketch artist, noticing the silhouette of the man who stood leaning against the doorframe. His shoulders were squared, tense, and as Penelope made a few more steps forward, her heels clicking against the marble floor, she saw that his jaw was clenched.   
Derek did not seem to hear her as he stood, his eyes focused on the busy pair sitting at the desk. He seemed agitated, protective, and Penelope raised her hand, gently touching his arm to alert him of her presence.   
His head snapped to the left at the contact, his brows furrowed, but he seemed to relax a little as he noticed her standing by his arm.   
“Hi” whispered she, stepping half a step closer to his side.   
“Hi” responded he, and turned his head again, as if he could not bear to leave the girl out of his sight for more than a minute at a time. Penelope followed his line of sight, only then noticing that this arrangement was strange. A witness would not normally sit that close to the sketch artist, would he?  
“Did something happen?” asked Penelope, her attention shifting to the girl’s face. She did not seem anxious or afraid. Instead, she smiled brightly as she explained what adjustment she wanted made to the unsub’s lips.  
“It’s nothing” said Derek, his face darkening. He was quiet for a moment more, before adding: “A misunderstanding.”  
“If you say so hotstuff.” replied Penelope as the sketch artist clicked one last time.   
Sembley could hardly believe his eyes. He had been working for the bureau for nearly fifteen years now, and never in that length of time had he produced anything of even nearly this level of quality. And, he liked to flatter himself, it was not for a lack of skill on his part.  
It was simply how witness sketches worked. The people sent to him had often only noticed the suspect in passing, not paying much attention, or they had just gone through the most traumatising event in their life. There was no way either of the groups would remember this much detail, or be able to reproduce them in terms of description. Well, not that he blamed them. Some of these crimes kept him wide awake at nights, and he had only heard stories.   
But this woman… was incredible.  
She had managed to describe the suspect so well that their sketch resembled a portrait. The dimensions of this face looked so natural, so right… It was amazing. And he felt even more of a fool for his initial reaction.   
“Wow.” said Penelope, staring at the screen, marvelling the sketch “that’s amazing.”  
Her voice, rather than her praise, drew Nell’s attention, and she whirled about in her chair, jumping to her feet as soon as she faced the pair at the doors. She crossed the room in a few light, agile steps, a wide smile pulling on her lips.  
“Penelope!” she exclaimed in delight, her smile shining from her eyes “Have you come to visit?”  
Penelope glanced once quickly at Derek, before she turned to Nell, who had not faltered once in beaming at her.  
“Um, yes, sort of, I came to see how the sketch was coming along, but you’re done much quicker than expected.” she glanced once more at the sketch, partly obstructed by the bulky sketch artist. “But really, you’re amazing. How did you remember all those details?”   
“Oh it’s easy” said Nell and stepped closer, invading Penelope’s personal space. The woman tensed but Nell did not seem to notice as she reached her hand to Penelope’s face, tracing her forehead with her index finger “your forehead’s about 4.734 inches wide just here, then you remember that number, and then you compare those dimensions to the paper width, and you do some basic maths, and you know what number you need to have on the screen.”  
She concluded, nodding her head once in conclusion, as if what she said made perfect sense, and what is more, could be done by anyone.  
“Sweet thing” said Derek, reaching a hand to her shoulder and tapping her once to get her attention. It worried him how transfixed she seemed to be by Penelope. This could not bode for well. “personal space, remember?”  
Nell frowned lightly, finding it hard to concentrate on what Derek was saying, but she figured it out after a second and deliberately took two steps back from Penelope.  
“And what do we say?” prompted Derek, a note of patience evident in his tone, suggesting he was accustomed to these kinds of situations. And that he did not find them to be a bother at all. Penelope noticed this, and was simply itching with curiosity. Something was different about this girl, and her best guess would be that she was mentally challenged. But then again, how would that explain the sketch?  
Meanwhile, Nell remembered her manners and chirped from her place “Sorry and thank you.”  
But instead of looking at Penelope in order to estimate her reaction, she was looking at Derek, waiting for his response.  
“That’s my girl.” said he in response, earning himself a beaming smile in return.  
“But you must have had a really good look.” said Penelope, wondering how long this girl had to be staring at the unsub in order to memorize, or rather calculate, all the details.   
Derek had not been surprised with the result. He had been the one to teach her this technique, once he realized how well she remembered random strings of numbers, and how quickly she could calculate. Sometimes he thought she was better than any computer.   
But in order for her to actually remember someone’s face, she had to have a damn good look. Anger, mixed with a sense of panicked fear one usually felt after just barely avoiding a horrid tragedy, washed over him. He turned his head to Nell, and asked through grit teeth.  
“Nell, where was the unsub standing?”   
She seemed confused and he snarled at her “Was he standing opposite you?”  
Nell’s face fell, and she seemed to shrink before their eyes, falling back into herself, as if she was trying to hide from sight.  
“Yes…” whispered she, understanding that she had made a mistake, but not understanding what that mistake was.  
“Let me get this straight.” snarled Derek “you stood face to face with a wanted serial killer, and you only came to the police two days later?”  
Penelope glanced quickly between Derek and Nell, opening her mouth once to say something, but closing it promptly, not finding a single thing to say. Derek was in the right here, but the expression on Nell’s face broke her heart. She looked so young, like a sad, scared child. Before she could think this through, Penelope crossed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around Nell’s shoulders in a sign of silent comfort. Only after that action did she consider whether Nell would mind the contact, or if Derek’s anger would now turn on her. But the thoughts were fleeting, anger bubbling up in her kind heart at Derek’s next words.   
He was by far too angry to pay much attention to Penelope’s actions, his anger rising with every word more.  
“And if I’m right, you would not have thought to come here if you hadn’t heard about the feds arriving to help. How could you have done that? How could you have been so damn irresponsible? How many times have I warned you against getting into this kind of shit?” his voice was booming in the small room. Pictures of every crime scene, of every victim flashed through his mind, screaming: this could have been her. You almost lost her.  
He simply could not think straight.  
“But it’s not just New York is it? This kind of shit happened in Chicago as well. It’s like you’re fucking looking for these sons of bitches, begging to be hurt. How many days Nellwyn? How many days will it be before it’s your face on one of those pictures?” he swung his hand towards the doors, pointing in the direction of the photographs plastered across the white board. “How many days before I work your case?”  
Penelope listened with a sense of disbelieving anger. She had never known Derek to be this much of an ass. But at the last sentence she snapped.   
She pushed Nellwyn behind her, physically shielding her from Derek.  
“Derek Morgan-“ started she, snarling right back at him, her face a picture of rage.   
But he interrupted, not deterred in the least by her reprimand “Don’t you Derek me Garcia, she could have been killed!”  
“I’m sorry” said a little voice, and Nell peeked behind Garcia, looking as though she was on the verge of tears. “is it too late to catch him now?”  
For the first time, Derek noticed her expression, feeling cold sweat wash over him. Fuck. And in a second, all that anger, fear and rage change targets, and crashed over him. He had not seen Nell in fucking two years, and the day he gets to meet her again, he screams at her for something she could not help.  
He had half a mind to shoot himself in the shin.   
It wasn’t her damn fault. What seemed so logical, instinctual even, to him, was odd to her. Her mind did not process information as his did, she did not think in the same way. And he, being the idiot that he was, took out all his frustration on the girl who meant the world to him.  
“Sweet thing…” said he, not knowing how to fix this awful mistake. Not knowing how to apologise for all he said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”  
She peeked at him again, observing him with those striking eyes. He could only hope that her generosity and kindness outweighed the hurt. And if it did not, what in the name of hell would he do?  
Nell concluded that the storm was over, and stepped around Penelope, walking up to Derek , spreading her arms two steps away, offering him a small smile in a gesture of reconciliation. Derek wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in a tight hug, relieved beyond words.   
“I’m not mad at you.” said he, “I’m mad at myself for losing my temper. Forgive me sweet thing.”  
“It’s okay.” she replied, and pulled back from him, a quizzical expression on her face. “Why were you so cross? Is it too late to catch the murderer?”  
“I was scared” he replied in an effort to explain his behaviour. Nell would not understand his reaction if he did not voice his concerns. “you could have been hurt. I could have lost you.”  
Nell smiled gently at that, raising a hand to his face.   
“But you didn’t. I’m ok Derek, I’m always ok.” her small, dainty hand felt warm against his face. Alive.  
“Will my sketch be helpful then? It’s not too late? asked she, lowering her hand back to her side.   
“You’re helping me just by being here.” replied Derek, “But your sketch is amazing. Well done.”  
“Oh, brilliant!” she smiled at him, “So, I’m done here?”  
“Yes, that’s all we needed.” replied Derek, but even before he finished his sentence, Nell turned to Penelope, walking up to her and promptly giving her a hug.  
Penelope had been listening to the interaction, and had understood what had apparently gone over Nellwyn’s head. It was not anger that made Derek yell. It was paralyzing fear. And great love. Before she could decide how she felt about this new conclusion, she found herself wrapped around in a sudden hug. And just as she was about to respond, Nellwyn pulled back, grinning at her.  
“It was such a pleasure meeting you. A dream come true.” and as an afterthought, she added “And thank you.”  
“For what?” asked Penelope, confused but unable to stop herself from smiling in return.   
“For standing up to your best friend for the sake of a strange girl you only met today.”   
No, thought Penelope. This girl was not mentally challenged. She was as perceptive as any profiler.   
Before Penelope could reply, Nellwyn turned to Derek, climbed to her toes and kissed him on the cheek.   
“I’ll see you around Derek. Best of luck with the case!” and proceeded to leave. But Derek turned and caught her wrist.  
“Wo wo wo” grinned he, “where are those short legs taking you?”  
Nell frowned at him, not understanding the question.   
“Home. You said I was done.”   
“Well my Lionheart, there is just no way I’m letting you go home alone, while there is a lunatic out there killing people. You’re coming with me to the hotel. And I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”  
Nellwyn needed little convincing. Her face broke in one more infectious smile and she clapped her hands together in delight.  
“I get to stay over? Awesome! Let’s go!”  
Before he could be dragged away, Derek turned to Garcia, noticing an odd look on her face.   
“See you in the morning baby girl.” he said and smiled, already being tugged out the doors.  
“Yeah, bright and early.” replied Penelope, watching him disappear behind the doors. They would be spending the night together? She could not deny the brief, sharp pain that shot through her heart at the thought.   
As she walked back to the surveillance room to get her bag, she decided to go to bed the moment she returned to her room. It was a long day, and it left her drained.


End file.
